


The Interloper

by ralst



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 07:59:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3888544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ralst/pseuds/ralst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sameen is not impressed when a nerd from Root's past insinuates himself into their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Interloper

The safe house was far too crowded. They didn't all need to be there, not for the nerd-show, but none amongst them was willing to give up the opportunity of meeting someone from Root's past. A tall, handsome, male someone who kept looking at Root like she was some kind of angel and not the psycho-ex-killer-for-hire that they all knew and... tolerated.

For all his height and shoulder-width Shaw recognised him as a nerd straight away. Not so much because of his pasty skin but the way he clung onto his tablet as if it contained the secrets to the universe. Even Harold wasn't that obvious and he practically had King Nerd tattooed on his forehead.

"Why is he here?" Shaw demanded, her question directed at a smirking John.

"No idea, Shaw, why don't you ask your girlfriend?"

The smirk and the 'girlfriend' were both new and unwelcome side effects of the interloper's arrival. It wasn't as if she'd said anything or done anything to provoke him, besides maybe threatening to kill Root's little fanboy when he'd wandered into their path, but she could hardly be held accountable for that; the idiot had practically run at Root seconds after she'd finished kneecapping someone.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Sure, she's not," said Fusco, whose traitorous mouth, Shaw decided, had just earned him a lot of future pain.

At least they hadn't taken him to the subway station; the safe house, with the use of a blindfold and shuttered windows, still afforded them some leeway if the jerk decided to get clingy. He was definitely the type. He hadn't stopped staring at Root since he sat down.

"He's hot," added Zoe, in what must have been an out of character suicide attempt. "Not Shaw hot," she mused, her smirk matching John's, "but definitely hot."

Harold looked up from the screen he, Root and the interloper were studying and scowled at the peanut gallery. "There's really no need for you all to be here."

No one made a move to leave.

Root looked at Shaw. "We'll probably be at it all night," she said, the innuendo clear.

Shaw gave no outward display of having heard the comment even as one by one all her so-called friends turned in her direction. She would have told them that she didn't care; that Root could get up to whatever she liked, with whomever she liked, and it wouldn't bother her in the slightest. She wanted to say that, but she couldn't. Stupid fanboy.

Harold, Root and the unnecessary accessory continued to chatter away and tap on their laptops for another two hours. John and Zoe gave up their prime positions and settled into the couch after the first twenty minutes, their low voices providing a counterpoint to all the tapping from the nerd corner.

"She hasn't flirted with him, not once," said Fusco, who had decided to sit beside Shaw for the entire coma-inducing production of nerds-in-a-corner, "that 'all night' comment was directed at you, you know that, right?" Shaw rolled her eyes in dismissal but nevertheless decided to forego his future punishment. "Besides, since when did Coco-Puffs like guys?"

"I like you, Lionel," whispered Root, her stealth-like approach causing Fusco to slip from the corner of the couch and almost collide with Zoe.

"Don't do that," he groused.

Root's smile was mischievous as she offered him a helping hand but it quickly morphed into flirtatious as she turned to Shaw. "We really will be at this all night," she said, invading Shaw's personal space just the slightest amount in an effort to provoke a reaction.

"I've got nowhere else to be and someone needs to keep an eye on Harold." Shaw looked past Root to where Harold was pretending not to be listening to their conversation. "If your little friend turns out to be Samaritan you're going to need someone to take him down."

Root didn't mention the full check the Machine had run the second her old acquaintance had made his appearance or the fact that Samaritan was now little more than a smouldering ember of its previous self. If Shaw wanted to sit around watching them work, she wasn't about to dissuade her, especially if it meant being walked home afterwards; interesting things always seemed to happen when Shaw walked her home.

"Miss Groves?" Harold and the interloper were excitedly motioning towards their screens and a row of numbers that the non-nerd section of the room thought belonged in a telephone directory.

"Looks like we might be calling it a night sooner than expected," cooed Root as she left Shaw's side to take up her previous position.

The fanboy half-rose at Root's return and proceeded to try and slip an arm around her shoulders as he pointed out something on the screen. It was a move that put Shaw on high alert and caused John, Zoe and Fusco to turn in preparation for restraining her from causing grievous bodily harm; it was Harold, however, who managed to swivel the screen and block the manoeuvre before Root was even aware of the touch.

The tension drained from Shaw's body and she took a moment to appreciate the sudden smile on Harold's face.

"How long?" Shaw asked an hour later, her question directed at Harold.

"Almost there," said the interloper, as if anyone was talking to him.

"Twenty minutes," corrected Harold.

"I'm done," announced Root, her words earning a nod from Harold and vigorous typing from the fanboy. She made a show of stretching out the kinks and gaining nearly everybody's attention in the process. "Give me a call if you run into any problems."

"You're not staying?" asked the interloper, his hands stilling on the keyboard and earning him a patented Finch glare.

"Places to be," said Root, her gaze quickly leaving his to settle on Shaw who, with a shrug of indifference, promptly abandoned her observation post and turned to escort Root to wherever it was she wanted to go. If history repeated itself, as it was wont to do, they'd end the evening at Shaw's place, but she didn't really care where they ended up so long as they were away from the fanboy and his wandering, nerdy eyes.


End file.
